The Watercolour Pencil
by RapunzelInTheSnow
Summary: Landon is surprised to hear about the family in the woods, but who is it he keeps almost catching? AU story
1. Chapter 1

"Have you heard?"

Landon looked up slowly as Romeo asked Peter over and over this question. Peter was ignoring him, probably because of Romeo's bad habit of flirting with Peter's crush, but finally Peter admitted he hadn't.

"Some odd people are living in the woods, a family of artistic types - well, apart from one, he's just loud, and he's Mr Beilschmidt's brother..."

Peter actually payed attention now. "In the woods?" His interest had been snagged, and Romeo grinned with sparkling eyes.

"In a little log cabin they have built. They must be rich, huh?"

Landon snorted to himself. What of it? Why did it interest them? Peter was his adoptive brother but he rarely got along with him despite Peter's determination to be friends with him. If someone wished to live in the woods it wouldn't really matter to them, or cause them any harm, would it? Mr Beilschmidt, the owner of the local pub, was quite cool towards the children of the small town. Landon thought that this might be because he did not know how to treat them or how to act around them - he did not know how accurate his thoughts were, but stuck to it as an opinion.

He wondered what Mr Beilschmidt's brother might be like, trying to think of someone who looked like him but cheerful. He truly couldn't imagine Mr Beilschmidt smiling...maybe not frowning, but never smiling.

He idly let his gaze slide to his brother, who had a shocked expression on his face.

"Here?" Peter said, looking quite surprised.

"Yeah, their son is coming here, to school...apparently he's never been to a school before. Home schooled, like that guy...what was his name again?"

"Funny," Peter frowned, "neither can I."

Romeo beamed. "Anyway, his parents think he should be around kids his own age... I heard Miss Zwingli talking to Miss Frost about him."

Peter snorted. "Bet you were up a tree again."

A flushed face was all the evidence they needed, and both Landon and Peter snorted, while Romeo spluttered in denial.

...

On the way home, Landon veered into the grassy field nearby their house while Peter went on ahead. He was sure he had seen someone in the trees, and he was curious as to who it was. He stepped forward between the trees and saw movement ahead, but he was already as deep into the woods as he was willing to go, and could hear Peter calling him back in a panicky tone. Moving his foot back he felt it brush something, and crouched down to pick it up. A purple watercolour pencil, marked with two engraved letters.

E. E.

What did that mean? He didn't know, but tucked it into the pocket of his coat before walking back.

"Landon, don't disappear, if I go looking for you we'll be late home!" whined his brother, and he made a small, non-committal noise before following his brother home.

Their 'mother', a Finnish man with a very warm smile named Tino, would indeed worry if they were too late in getting home. Even if Landon was determined not to get along with his father, he considered his mother with a little more kindness than he was likely to admit.

Peter was unusually quiet on the way home, so Landon found that his own temper was slightly improved.

...

"Did you hear, Papa? About the people who are living in the woods?" Peter asked cheerfully, while they were eating dinner. Their father nodded, and Peter's jaw dropped.

"You have? I only heard about it today from Romeo and he heard it from Miss Zwingli by accident..."

Tino smiled gently. "Well, one of them is Miss Zwingli's cousin, so she would know about him living in the woods. Mr Zwingli says he is a pianist, but he doesn't seem to be too fond of him...The parents grew up here in town and decided to bring their son up here too."

Landon was only partly paying attention to what was being said, but shivered inwardly at the thought of his teacher's brother. He was notorious for being protective of his younger sister and knowing exactly how to use the wide range of guns he owned should she be threatened. His sister was very kind and sweet by contrast, but spoke of her brother as kind, something the children could not exactly believe having seen him shooting at Romeo's older brother once. Mr Zwingli was only fond of his sister, it seemed, and even then had a hard time showing his affection.

What would his cousin be like?

His imagination produced a blond man with a frown, green eyes and long thin hands. He actually shivered at this image, but tried not to dwell on it.

"We us'd t' kn'w th'm wh'n w' w're y'nger, r'ght, Tino?" Berwald said suddenly, breaking the odd silence. Tino nodded before a barking caught everyone's attention. The family dog, Hanatamago, ran into the room with a joyful yapping. Landon pushed back his chair.

"Thank you for the meal; I'm going to head upstairs to my room."

He saw Tino's eyes falter and felt slightly bad but kept on walking until he reached his room, turning on his laptop.

...

Tino sighed. "It always happens now, Eduard! He gets home and just disappears into the computer. He doesn't socialise with the other children much at school or even with Peter."

His friend sighed. "Tino, he might just be unsociable. He'll make friends when he's ready, and pushing him might just delay that."

The Finnish man bit his lip. He knew that Eduard's advice was likely good, but with every day that passed he saw Landon withdraw into himself and get along badly with Berwald, who probably didn't want to be pushed away by his son, but still did have that same happen to him.

And yet, did Landon care about his family? Judging by his response to others, he did think he might, that even if he had somehow not noticed the care and attention he was given, as he treated them with slightly more affection than the rest of the people in the village.

Landon, overhearing the conversation and not the thoughts, picking up on the faint sprout of resentment and not the care that was its roots, scowled. He very quickly marched to the door, taking his coat down from his peg and wriggling his feet into his shoes.


	2. Chapter 2

He didn't really quite understand as he walked slowly down the path towards the woods how Tino could smile to his face like that if he really harboured those feelings in his heart.

The hurt, from hearing those words, was immense. His first memories were there, and he didn't get along too well with his family but to think they thought that he didn't care for them was something he couldn't quite stomach. He had by now reached the edge of the woods, and he stepped through the trees that were there. He was too angry as well to turn around and go back to the comfort of his home.

A rustling brought his attention to the trees in front of him and he decided to walk forward, further than he had done before. He caught sight of a foot and stepped quickly, but there was not a soul there. Slight footsteps were running quickly away, and something was once more lying on the ground. This was a tube of paint, a bright red, and some had fallen on the leaves nearby. Picking these up, Landon blinked and walked deeper as quietly as he possibly could, towards the little stream he knew ran through this direction. He heard a voice call out in a slightly fearful tone.

"Who is there?"

He stepped quickly in its direction, seeing a drop or two of paint leading him forward like a breadcrumb trail. Suddenly the trees were gone, and the clearing was in front of him. He felt almost like ripping the leaves apart, as no one was there...

...

Tino went up to Landon's room with a determination to talk to him about today, looking forward to it in a way. Eduard had advised it, suggesting if Peter was the one who told them about the school day then perhaps it seemed to Landon that there was nothing left for him to say, and just maybe that his parents only wanted to hear about Peter's day.

Knocking on the door, he heard nothing from inside and opened the door. The laptop was on the bedside table but there was no sign of Landon, which was highly unusual and quite out of character. He couldn't think of any reason he wouldn't be here...

Unless...a horrible thought wormed its way into Tino's brain. Unless he had overheard the phone conversation and taken it the wrong way.

He raced out of the room, into the living room and looking about wildly. Peter looked up from some sort of game which involved tapping Hanatamago's paws and Tino seized his hands.

"When did you last see Landon?" he asked, and Peter shrugged, before watching in horrified shock as his 'mama' burst into tears, letting his hands drop from Peter's. Rushing forward he hugged the Finnish man.

"Don't cry,Mama!"

...

Landon was walking onward, hoping to find the person who he had not caught, determinedly walking forward without really knowing where he was going. He would find them, give them back their paint, and go home. This was his plan, but so far he had not been able to find them.

Taking an apple out of his pocket, he ate it as quickly as he possibly could and wondered if the person was even in this part of the woods anymore. His instincts were telling him that they were probably not, but he was still determined to find them. Perhaps if he went back a little way, he could take them by surprise!

He turned around confidently before realising he did not know exactly where he had been, or where to go from here.

He was lost, and it was getting dark.

...

Berwald was putting away the dishes when Peter called him, panicking. Of course, the Swedish man raced through only to find Tino in floods of tears. Catching his 'wife's' face between his hands, he focused on Tino until the man had calmed down enough to be able to speak coherently.

"Wh't's wr'ng?" he asked, and Tino's lip wobbled.

"I called up Eduard to talk, ended up talking about Landon...I said he was being distant...and went to talk to him...he'd gone." Tino hiccuped, and he looked straight up at Berwald.

"He must have heard me and run off! It's getting dark...what if he is lost? He must be so scared, and cold!"

Tears began to run down Tino's face again, but Berwald brushed them away before heading towards the door. Tino's jaw dropped.

"W-where are you going?"

"T' f'nd him 'nd br'ng h'm b'ck." Berwald pulled a woolly hat on and zipped up his coat before opening the door and striding out. He thought he might have a pretty good idea of where Landon would head, as natural curiosity was sadly a fault in his son. If he had to guess, he would say that Landon was heading for the woods. Berwald was the only one who knew of Landon's painting habits, so he concluded that an artistic family would make his son curious.

Even so, he was worried. The woods were thick and easy for a child to get lost in...

...

Landon was suddenly very frightened. Nobody knew he was gone, nobody at all. What if no one ever came to save him? Even Papa would be preferable to the lonely darkness surrounding him.

It was also very cold, despite the fact he was wearing his coat. He glimpsed two flickers of light, one being that of a house and the other of a torch flickering through the autumn stripped trees surrounding him.

"L'ndon!"

He ran quickly towards this voice, the voice he knew, before he could stop himself. Strong arms caught him before holding him at arms' length.

"'Re y'u h'rt?"

He shook his head, and was picked up under one arm by Berwald. Struggling, he glared up before catching his 'father' 's gaze. It was ever so slightly accusing, and most certainly a dampening thing for anyone's spirit. The reality of the situation was now very clear in his mind; he had run off into a possibly dangerous place, without telling anyone, and had nearly had a terrible experience with the cold. His family had been worried about him and they knew him well enough to know where to look.

He felt a tear trickling down one cheek before wiping it away fiercely.

...

Tino had hugged him, crying, when they got home, and Peter had hugged him as well. They really had been worried about him! He hugged Tino back, but only nodded at Peter before he was sent upstairs to bed. They must have thought he needed the rest.

His fingers curled around the tube of paint, and he set it and the leaves it had managed to stain on his shelf next to the watercolour pencil. Perhaps soon he would find their owner and be able to return them...or think of a project in which they could be used.


End file.
